Favor
by sirscreen
Summary: Trev calls Brennan, asking for a favor. Booth advises her to be careful, as does Trev. A little forensics with B/B fluff and some A/H too.
1. Ask

**Okay, for those of you who don't know, this is the 3****rd**** in my Black Ops Series. In previous:**

** Booth trained a former Marine codenamed Trev how to be a sniper so that he could do his job in Black Ops.**

** A mission in Shanghai went awry for Trev and he narrowly escaped capture twice.**

** He recovered from his injuries at the Jeffersonian and became friends with the Bones Crew. **

** After Recovery he went out to investigate who would want to kill him, and why.**

** Met and managed to "turn" an enemy operative named Kate Todd and is headed to Miami to continue his investigation.**

** Now, on with the story:**

"Brennan," the anthropologist answered, putting the phone to her ear.

"_Brennan, it's me Trev,_" the voice said, "_I need a favor._"

"Trev!" Bones exclaimed, "You made the evening news! They are saying you're a terrorist, very dangerous and they have a large bounty on your head."

"_How big?"_

"$1.5 million."

"_Whoo-wee. I'm partly proud of that. What identity are they using?"_

"A former SEAL named-"

_"Mike Peirce? Man, they are bringing out the big guns now."_

"I did not see any firearms on that particular segment of the news," Bones deadpanned.

"_Figuratively, Brennan. Like I said, can you do me a favor?"_

"That depends on the favor."

"_I need you to identify remains. Been buried for five years."_

"I would be happy to help, as long as Booth doesn't bring me a case in the meantime. I shall simply lie and say that they are ancient unidentified remains when asked."

"_Good girl. Are the rest of the Squint Squad there?"_

"Yes."

"_Think they will help?"_

"I am sure they would love to."

_"Then can you get them in here? I need to brief them."_

"Sure," Brennan placed the phone on speaker and walked out to the Forensic Platform. It was currently housing a partially completed skeleton from an Seljuk graveyard in Turkey. Currently only Angela was on the platform, examining the objects buried with it, "Angela."

"Yeah, sweetie?" Angela, as she always did, turned her full attention to her friend when she was talking.

"I have on of Booth's old Army buddies on the phone. He wants to say high to all of us," Brennan coded.

Angela got the message, "Oh, sure. I'll be right there. Want me to get Jack?"

"I'll get Cam."

Cam was in her office doing the paperwork that kept the Forensics Department running. And there sure was a lot of that, "Hey Cam, a certain Marine wants to talk to us in my office," Cam shot Brennan a confused look, "Trev's on the phone."

"Oh," she hurriedly closed up the paperwork and made a bee line for Brennan's office.

"_Alright, everyone here?"_

"Yep," Hodgins said.

"_Okay, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to analyze and report your findings on the remains I shall send. These remains shall be designated Human Remains Catalog #120948592672B. We're gonna rely on good ole bureaucracy to hide what you're doing."_

"I don't get it," Hodgins admitted.

"Mislabeling evidence is one sure fire way of making it disappear," Cam said.

_ "Exactly. I'm going to send you everything you need. Medical history, DNA sample, X-rays. But know this: these are not going to be labeled. I'm going to redact the name, so as far as you know, she is just Skeleton Bravo, as I'm sure Angela will not like the ridiculously long name I picked out for the remains."_

"Thanks," Angela deadpanned.

"Why don't you want us to know everything?" Hodgins asked.

"_Because, I'm looking at her right now and she is very much alive."_

Cam's face became worried, "Oh, you're not-"

"_No! Listen, these remains were autopsied by a very good, very morale M.E. and still passed muster. This guy's as good as Cam and about as moral as Booth."_

"That is very moral," Brennan commented.

"_What I need to know is how these remains died and rotted while Bravo still moved out and about. Will you guys help me?"_

"Spies, faked deaths, stolen remains," Hodgins quipped, "It'll be our most exciting case this month!"

_"I really got to see what he does on the weekends," _Trev commentted, "_Okay, as payment, Hodgins, I just emailed you an intelligence report from Cuba-"_

"Sweet."

"_Angela will suddenly find a _very _expensive perfume in the mail in a few days."_

"Thank you."

"_Cam will find a fine bottle of wine in her mail box."_

"Great."

_"And Brennan, your boyfriend is gonna want to kill me for this, a package carrying a Glock 23 will be found on your doorstep in a few days. It will be labeled 'scrap metal'. You will be amazed what gets by screening with that label."_

"Thanks, and he will want to kill you."

"_He can reach me at this number. And Brennan, this gun will actually be small enough for you. Get rid of that artillery piece you have."_

"Bigger is better!"

"_In some things yes, but the functionality of- never mind. I'll let your future-husband argue with you. It's like sex for you two."_

"When will the remains get here?" Brennan asked.

"_About two days. Cam, that will give you enough time to forge up some paperwork for the remains. If you want, I can call Mickey and have him help with the forgery."_

"No thanks."

_"And a final word: you make an x-ray, you melt it. A test? You burn it. A search? Make it on a separate computer and erase it. Secrecy is key here guys. If you can't do this, I can't let you examine the remains. It will endanger you and I promised Booth I wouldn't. Final time, if you back out now-"_

"We'll do it, Trev. Jeeze, you act like we're a bunch of kids."

_"Mommy Brennan, keep them in line."_

"Wait, how come I'm not the mom? I'm the boss," Cam complained.

"_You're more like the responsible college age daughter that raised herself."_

"What about me and Jack?" Angela asked.

"_The free spirited young high school teenager and her boyfriend who we threatened to break his everything if he breaks your heart. And Jack? I will do so. I won't think twice."_

"Understood."

**Please review!**


	2. Subconsious

**Sorry for not updating in a while, I took a little vacation from writing. I was studying for the ASVAB and talking to recruiters.**

** Brennan's apartment**

"So Trev asked you for a favor?" Booth asked as he washed his face.

"Yes," Brennan answered, "He wants me to analyze some remains for him."

"Huh," Booth blinked, "That's weird. I'd expect him to ask you to help him _destroy_ some remains."

"Me too," Brennan replied, beginning to brush her teeth.

Bones brushing her teeth was interesting to watch. She attacked plaque with the same focus and intensity that she had when examining bones. She also did the same when brushing her hair and cooking pancakes.

When Brennan spat, she looked up to see Booth watching her carefully, "What?"

"You're beautiful," he said, "And I want to ask you, what did Trev promise you to get you to cooperate?"

"A gun."

"_A gun?_" Booth cried, "_He promised you a-_"

He was silenced when Brennan kissed him on the lips, "He-" another kiss, "Now you're just distract-" kiss, "I-" kiss, "What was I talking about?"

"You shouldn't be talking right now," she whispered.

"Yeah."

**Two days later...**

Booth bounced his knee in trepidation, staring at the innocent looking brown paper package addressed to Brennan. He was beside himself with worry.

"Maybe if we don't open it it'll go away," he thought.

"Booth, that is completely illogical," Brennan chastised, "It shall still be there unless some outside force removes it."

"Great idea," happily, Booth grabbed the package, only for Brennan to take it out of his hands.

"Need I remind you that I already own a gun?" Brennan chastised.

"Need I remind _you _that that artillery piece is too big for you?" Booth shot back.

Brennan rolled her eyes paper off. Booth flinched, "Now we can't return to sender!"

"There's no return address!" she argued, opening the box. She stared at in disgust, "It's I pieces."

Indeed, the slide and grip were separated and wrapped individually. Inside was a folded note. _See if that boy toy of yours can get you some hollow points._

Booth looked indignant, "So I'm a boy-toy now?"

Brennan giggled, "You were always a boy-toy."

Booth chuckled a bit and snapped the slide back onto the grip, " Glock 23, compact .40 Smith and Wesson. Ya know, this might actually be a good fit for you. 40. hollow point as decent stopping power and low recoil."

"I'd prefer a 10mm."

"Really, a 10mm? Bones, firing that round would cause the second to be shot at _God!"_ for emphasis, he pointed upwards.

And that started the argument that got him late for work.

**At the Jeffersonian...**

_The remains are in very good condition,_ Brennan noticed. Even being buried for five years, Skeleton Bravo wasn't a skeleton at all. Female, approximately 150 cm, 60 kg, Caucasian.

Brennan tilted her head, that slight scowl that meant something was tugging at the edge of her mind, that something that was important. Booth would call it her gut instinct. Sweets would say it's her subconscious telling guiding her.

"I'll start the autopsy after you finish with the x-rays, Dr Brennan," because this could get potentially very dangerous, Brennan chose not to include the interns in the examination.

"I shall only be about five minutes."

**Brennan's office...**

_This is weird_. Brennan thought, _The bones look as if they sustained a beating._

Brennan opened the file that had been delivered with the body. It was kinda weird having a tattooed gangbanger deliver the body. Even weirder that he had a slight British acccent.

The file was definitely federal, Brennan guessed FBI, but Booth had said he hadn't seen her. Her name was redacted, along with her work history and anything personal. The picture showed a woman of early thirties with brown and brown eyes. The file was next to useless, if it had not included original x-rays and the pathological report from the first autopsy.

Pulling out those x-rays, Brennan compared a fracture of the right ulna between the two.

"What in the world..."

**Please review!**


	3. Anamolies

"This skeleton is virgin," Brennan said.

_"Um, I'm assuming you mean something other than she never got laid."_ Trev said through the phone.

"Oh, no. We did find evidence of sexual contact, because the embalming managed to preserve the flesh very well," Brennan explained, "As you age, your skeleton changes."

_"Yeah, things like walking and blunt force trauma change your skeleton. When you reach about twelve, you have an almost entirely new skeleton."_

"That's right," Brennan said, impressed, "Have you had prior osteological instruction."

_"Discovery Kids, Zack's Ultimate Guide to the Awesome. I used to watch it as a kid."_

"Oh, I used to love that show!" Brennan smiled, "Do you remember the one with the Mastodon?"

"_Brennan, focus. Virgin skeleton."_

"Of course. This skeleton has no prior changes," she said, "The DNA and dentistry match those of the original autopsy, but this women, though she all the developed bone structure, cannot be more than a few weeks old at the time of her death."

_"That's impossible."_

"I shall ask the others what they think of this," Brennan said, "Do I have permission to remove the flesh and perform my own examination?"

_"Brennan, the guys I got to steal that body are too good and too well paid to screw up. No one knows the body is gone. Do whatever the hell you want to with it. I just need answers."_

"I shall do my best to give you them."

"_Thanks. Have a good one, Brennan."_

"Wait, do you think you can get me x-rays of before the autopsy?"

"_No problem. Bye."_

_ "_Goodbye, Trev."

**Royal Diner**

"'Virgin skeleton'?" Booth asked.

"I thought it was simply a mistake on our x-rays," Brennan answered, "Until I compared the anomaly to the autopsy x-rays and found the same thing. The odds are very long that the two machines would both be broken in the same way."

"Right," Booth said.

She frowned, "Cam ran the DNA against the profile Trev provided us. It had a 99.91% match."

"And?"

"Well, usually that match is congruent with the same person, only aged thirty years."

"You lost me."

"As we grow older, our DNA changes just like our skeleton due to damage and repair, only it is so minuscule that it is usually unnoticed," Brennan explained, "As we grow, our cells divide, copy our DNA, and in the process, some of the DNA is damaged or changed. It is also changed by exposure to radiation and changes in the chemical balance of the cell."

"I still don't get it."

"If we were to clone you, Booth, the clone would originally have your exact DNA, but it would be an infant."

"Like that sheep they cloned."

"Exactly," she said, "But as the clone, and you, get older, you both damage your DNA in different ways. By the time you, and then the clone dies, your DNA might differ by at least .03%"

"Then why can't we tell identical twins apart during DNA testing?"

"Because twins usually spend the majority of their childhoods together," Brennan explained, "They encounter the same methods of damaging DNA. And, because the damage is so slight that most DNA technicians overlook it."

"So, how did you find this?" Booth asked.

"I didn't, Cam did," Brennan said, "It's the skeleton that annoys me."

"That's a first," Booth observed.

"Never before has a skeleton posed such a mystery as this one. It is extremely frustrating."

"Tell you what," Booth said, "I found some of those hollow points. I know this firing range a few minutes outside the city. I could give you a... hands on tutorial."

"Oh! That's sexual innuendo, isn't it!" Brennan exclaimed.

"Yep."

* * *

"Trev, is it possible for you to give me x-rays _before_ the original autopsy?" Brennan asked.

_"Sure, I'll make a few-"_

_ "Take a left," _a female voice said from the phone. Brennan shot a confused glance at Angela, who was also in the office. This must be the person that somehow had faked their death.

_"No, if I take a left it'll take us right into the mountains," _Trev argued.

_ "Are you kidding? It's rush hour. We'll go right into heavy traffic if we stay on the freeway."_

_ "Rush hour? We're on Route 65! What 'Rush Hour' traffic will we hit?"_

_ Click "And here's the traffic report: A seven car pile-up had occurred on Route 65, causing heavy traffic for those making the commute from Charlottesville to Richmond. In other news-"_

_ Click, "Take a left." _the female said, very smugly.

_ "It's not rush hour."_

_ "Just take a left."_

_ "I'm taking a left!"_

Angela giggled, "Is the honeymoon over for you two love birds?"

_ "The honeymoon ended when she bought $20,000 of clothes in the space of four miserable hours. Most of it on shoes that look like torture devices I wouldn't use on my worse enemy."_

_ "You said that we weren't shopping on a budget!"_

_ "You made me holding your purse in the Ladies Underwear Section!"_

_ "You made friends!"_

_ "With three other shmucks at least had the benefit of the prospect of getting laid!"_

_ "You are the one with the PTSD!" _

_ "So, wait. You'd do me if I _didn't _have PTSD?"_

_ "What? No-I'd – You-"_

"Trev 1, Mystery Lady 0" Angela commented.

"As you were saying, Trev?" Brennan asked.

"_What? Oh, yeah. I can make a few calls, get those medical records stolen and given to you."_

_ "Those things are still around?"_

_ "Doctors are the worst pack rats ever. They never get rid of anything."_

_ "What if I give you my x-rays?"_

Brennan was confused, "What?"

_"Look, if we're stopping in Richmond for the night. Maybe we can stay a few more days and figure out a way to get x-rays done and delivered."_

_ "Sure. I know a few corrupt doctors there." _

"When will I have these x-rays?"

_"I'll email them to you when I get them."_

_**Please review!**_


	4. Cloning

**Sorry for not updating in a while! There is no excuse... I just got lazy. But I'm Back, Baby!**

** Right now I'm trying something different. We are going to see it from a different perspective. In this case, Trev's.**

** Trev**

"It wasn't easy, but-"

Caitlyn interrupted, "You paid the guy forty bucks."

I rolled my eyes, "_Anyway,_ I managed to get some x-rays for you, Brennan," I had a very short rope today. I had been awake the last 32 hours and everytime we entered a residential area I was in the back seat with a blanket over my body. The government was stepping up their public information campaign and had posted news bulletins and Internet adds

_"Thank you, Trev. Now, I am looking at them right now. There is a healed sprain on the right wrist," _Brennan said through the phone, _"I see other injuries that seem consistent with the history you gave me."_

"So the skeleton in your lab is not my companion's?"

_"That would be physically impossible as-"_

"Not literally."

"_Oh. Then I would have to say..."_

Her hesitation was palpable, "Brennan."

_"This case is frustrating. None of the variables add up. We retested for DNA, _four times!_ Dental, complete match!"_

"Brennan-"

"_Facial reconstructions are 99.9% congruent!"_

"Brennan!"

"_Yet, the skeleton does not match the medical history you gave me!"_

"Brennan!" finally she stopped talking, "Brennan, I have always lived by this principle when I become stuck: Occam's Razor."

_"The theory that the answer__ to a particular problem is-"_

"The hypothesis that answers the most questions," I repeated, "So, list the questions."

_"Medically, this skeleton is in almost pristine condition. It has almost no damage to it other than what looks like a wound in the cranium about .308 of an inch in diameter at the entrance."_

"That means 7.62mm or .308 Winchester," I said, "File said she died of a bullet wound that entered her head and severed her brain stem. Instant death."

_"And that is consistent with medical history you gave us._

_ "Victim also presents with remodeled injuries that occurred no more than eight weeks pre-mortem. They are located in the same general location as injuries in the medical history indicates, but they are not consistent with the types of injuries in the medical history. _

_ "Question: why does the skeleton match the DNA, dental, and facial images you have given us yet not the medical history?"_

"Simplest answer, Brennan," I said.

"_You gave us the wrong medical history."_

I sighed, trying not to feel insulted, "Brennan, the medical history I stole came with the DNA samples, and I stole them from three different sources. Unless someone broke into the DC Medical Office, NCIS Records Office, and Bethesda Naval Hospital, and _changed _the medical history, I'm afraid that medical history is about as good as it gets."

_"What about asking her?"_

"Oh, yeah, I'm gonna get an accurate medical history from an amnesiac," I scoffed, "Next question."

_"How is it that other than those injuries, this skeleton has almost no remodeling associated with a thirty-year-old woman?"_

"I don't know, maybe she was in a coma from birth till thirty?" I asked sarcastically.

_"That idea has merit."_

"Excuse me?"

_"A life time of inactivity would explain a non-remodeled skeleton, but it would also present with problems assossiated with such a life."_

"Such as?" so far, Caitlyn was more than happy to let me do the talking.

_"Weaker skeleton is the primary issue." _

"What about steroids?" I asked, "Even with little exercise, those can increase muscle and bone strength."

_"The amount and type of steroids required would drastically reduce life expectancy."_

"Yeah, by how much?"

_"Death would occur within 6-8 years."_

"Tumors and nerve damage sure are a bitch," I agreed, "Okay,in a coma for thirty years then heavy steroid use to gain or regain muscle and bone strength. Any other developments?"

_"We found antibiotics in the liver, consistent with an unspecified illnes__s."_

"That's good," I said, "I didn't give you the whole medical history because she was exposed to, but never contracted, a very rare and noticeable disease. You could have positively identified her."

_"And why do you not want that?"_

"Because the people who did this has no squabbles about killing people, Brennan," I said, "I hold nothing but the upmost respect and friendship with Booth. Ya think I'm gonna hurt him by sending assassins his way?"

_"I can understand your argument."_

"Brennan, I'm not going to tell you not to investigate, I'd be wastin my time," I said, "Just be careful, okay?"

_"I shall do so," _she replied, _"Umm-"_

"'Umm'?" I said, "You never say 'umm'."

_"I am unsure of this statement!" _she argued, _"It is a theory that is ridiculous, but it answers all of the questions."_

"Lay it on me."

_"Cloning."_

"I'm sorry, but did you just say 'Cloning'?" this was a woman who was so hyper-rational that she created a file on her boyfriend.

_"Rationally, __i__t is only half __ridiculous__,"_ she defended, _"We have the technology to clone a human, and it is pretty much found in every bioe__ngin__eering lab in the country. __It is not impossible to believe that there is a way to artificially age the subjects. And, it is the theory that answers most of the questions."_

"Except for the fact that that leaves the question of how she somehow managed to act like herself for three weeks instead of a three week old baby," I pointed out.

_"The key with Occam's Razor is the question that answers the _most _questions."_

"Brennan, I'll take what I can get," I said, "Anything else?"

_"Booth is being requested by the army to go to Afghanistan."_

"Yeah, I think that qualifies as something," I said, "For what? As much as he's gonna deny it, Booth's too out-of-shape for hunting haijis through the mountains."

_"They want him to __train Afghan National Army in techniques how to apprehend terrorists."_

"Ah, that makes sense. Brennan. Do you know what units Booth served on?"

_"No, why?"_

"You should ask him."

**And here is where I end.**

** Even though I do not deserve it, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Units

"Hey, Booth," Brennan said as she brushed her hair, "When I talked to Trev today, I told him that the Army wanted you to go to Afghanistan."

Booth took the floss out of his mouth, "Tell ya what, Bones, probably not something you should have told him."

"Trev is our friend, that is what friends tell other friends, right?" Brennan asked.

"Because the best case scenario is that he stays out of it," Booth said, "Worst case is he goes with me."

"How would that be bad?" Brennan asked, "Trev is highly skilled and well trained, not to mention he's spent most of his adult life in a warzone."

"Because this is Special Forces stuff, okay?" Booth said, "Trev's good, but he's not the kind of guy who's gonna win hearts and minds."

"What kind of guy is he?"

"The kind that puts the fear of God into his enemies."

"Oh," made sense. Trev was smart, violent, and deadly, not someone Brennan wanted as an enemy, "He also said it made sense, considering the units you've been assigned to."

That got Booth's attention, "What about the units I was assigned to?"

"He said I should ask you," Brennan said.

"Huh," Booth said, "How'd he learn that?"

Brennan gave him a look that said _Really? And this guy's been your friend for five years?_

"Never mind."

"What units did you serve in?" she asked as they moved to the bedroom.

"When I joined, was actually in the artillery," Booth chuckled as he got into bed, "Finished AIT, served about six months, then made a move to infantry. Artillery was boring. I did math, and told the guys whether to raise the barrel, lower the barrel, move it right, move it left... by the end of it, I was ready to shoot my commander. He was an ass. Anyway, I moved to 2nd Infantry Division, served in Kosovo. Got into the Rangers, served in Somalia. I liked the Rangers. We were proactive, hit the enemy first. After Somalia, I joined Special Forces. I did not like Special Forces. I saw what we were doing as important, but... the main mission was training foreign nations, or guerrillas, how to fight. I had to deal with so much bureaucracy, and my commander was an ass, again," they chuckled, "I was ready to get back to the Rangers. And then... Delta Force recruited me. Delta... now that was a unit," he smiled whistfully, "I served four years in that unit. We chased around planes like it was a summer sport. We hit terrorists where they hurt. We trained other Counter-terror forces, this time not hampered by the bureaucrats. I liked it. I liked being the best, I liked being proactive. But Delta... it was just so damned _tiring_. I couldn't tell anyone what I was doing most of the time. What I was doing was often gray on the moral side."

"Why did you leave?" Brennan asked.

"I was training and leading these government-sponsored guerrillas," he said, a far away look in his eyes, "We were hunting these other anti-government guerrillas, a mission initiated by the CIA. And when we finally caught them, I found among the dead a friend I had in Special Forces. I had heard that he had been recruited into the CIA. The CIA had sent us to clean-up their mess. And that, that was the final straw. I requested, and got, a transfer back to the Rangers. Finished my service there, left the Army, became an FBI Agent."

"Why does Trev think that that is the reason why you are wanted back in Afghanistan?" Brennan asked.

"Because I'm not going to train regular soldiers, Bones," Booth said, "I'm going to replace JSOC operators from their teaching jobs so they can focus more on black ops. I'll be instructing their elite guys."

"And why does that bother you?" she asked.

"It doesn't," Booth said, "I want to go but... I've built a life here. I have a son. I have you."

Brennan smiled and kissed him on the lips, "I don't want you to go, either."

"Hmm," he would have said more, but Brennan effectively silenced any chance of that for the night.

**Short, but I added a little B&B fluff.**

** PS, My brother actually does that in the Army (I told him he should have gone Marines...) and he's also trying to make a move to Infantry (and he too, is trying to move out of Artillery.)**

** PLEASE REVIEW!**


	6. Next stop: Miami

_"__That's all?" _Trev asked.

"Yes," Brennan said, "We examined every centimeter of the skeleton many times. We found nothing new."

_"Alright, thanks Brennan," _Trev replied, _"What do you want to happen to the skeleton?"_

"I would like for her to be buried," Brennan said, "She lived a life, even if it was only a few weeks.  
_"I see what Booth meant when he said that you had a bigger heart than you get credit for," _Trev said, _"I'll call my guys. They'll put the remains back without anyone noticing."_

"Thanks, Trev."

_"You watch yourself. You die and Booth'll never be the same."_

"I will," she said, answered by only dial tone.

* * *

"Beer?" Brennan offered.

"I gotta find out where you get this stuff. Spicy Shrimp?" he held up the takeout carton.

"Don't mind if I do," she said accepting the carton, "Trev's guys came today to take the bones back to Indiana."

"You learned who the bones belonged to, even though Trev asked you not to."

"Caitlin Todd, she served in the Secret Service for five years before making a move to NCIS," Brennan said, "She was shot in the head by a sniper while raiding a warehouse. The sniper was suspected to be an FBI mole."

"So did the squids make a mistake?" Booth asked.

"I don't think so. This 'case' was confusing. I hope Trev will fill in the blanks."

"H e will. Trev's smarter than he lets on. All we have to do is keep our heads down."

* * *

**TREV**

She asked me, "You sure about this."

"Not really," I admitted, "Makes it more fun that way."

"What's the cover?"

"Since I'm nationally known, you're the face. I'm the invisible man."

"So I'm PR."

"PR is such a harsh word," I objected, "Anything that requires something official, you're the gal."

"Lucky me."

"Look on the bright side: you get to stay at a fancy, five star hotel. All expenses paid."

"And where do you sleep?"

"I got a weapons cache near the Port of Miami."

"What do I do?"

"I'll take up most of the surveillance and intel gathering. Sorry, but you got side seat on this one. I do not need you're cover blown."

"So what happens in the meantime?"

"You do what every other Miami rich gal does: shop."

"Works for me."

I got out of the car, "See you on the other side, Lyn."

"Don't call me Lyn," were her final words before she drove off in my beloved green-with-black-racing-stripes Mustang.

I pulled my black USMC cap farther down my face. I bought a ticket to Miami and boarded the next Greyhound to Miami. It would be a two day trip from here in South Carolina. Bus stations had very little in the way of anti-terrorist security, so it was ideal for me to hop aboard a bus.

I settled down next to a teenager with his headphones on. Least likely that he would recognize me from all the pictures that sprung up since what happened in Shanghai and Chicago.

Two days. Thank God I had managed to buy a book on Impressionists in the 20th century (I lost a bet few years back and am now halfway to completing a doctorate in art history[I've studied worse. I still have no use for the logarithms I had to learn in sophomore Algebra]).

I'm hoping I will still be alive to finish the degree.

**And that is the end of this story. Now I can focus on the sequel, which is confirmed a _CSI Miami _story.**

**PLEASE REVEIW  
**


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